Guest Blogger – Whipperwill: The Power of Touch!

(This post is part of an awesome series of awesome 25swf guest bloggers- read about them here!)

I am so far removed from relationships right now, that it’s not even funny, it’s hilarious.  Everything in my life right now is one big-ass question mark.  I have like, zero time to dwell on the fact that I am single, and I’m okay with that.  Things have been rather stressful.  Some of it is good, healthy stress.  The other half, is kind of not as good and healthy.  I was and have been feeling very tense.  So, when I came across a groupon deal to get an hour massage for $30 bucks, I jumped on it!

It has been two years since my last massage.  It has been… hmm… man, how long has it been?!?!  Well, it’s been quite a while since I’ve had some good old fashion, hot-n-heavy action going on as well.  So, it’s no wonder why the massage I got last Friday rocked my world.  It was the best massage EVER!!!  I mean really, it was!  I’ve had my fair share of massages and well, let’s just say that this massage chick worked my muscles like no other massage chick or dude has ever worked my muscles before.  As I lay on that table, screaming and moaning in my head, I wondered if this massage felt so damn good because it has just been too damn long!  That may be the case.  Talking to a friend of mine who had recently gotten a massage, I asked her if there was a such thing as a bad massage.  She said something rather interesting, “it can’t be too bad when you have someone rubbing on ya!”  So, yeah, I’m feigning for another massage, which I just may indulge myself next month, and get another.  I don’t care if I can’t really afford it!  Or maybe, I should just put myself back in the game and bask in the power of touch…

Right now, they both sound good to me.  Okay, time to get back to work!

Preoccupied,

^^whipperwill^^

Guest Blogger – Whipperwill: Who Turned Off The Lights…

(This post is part of an awesome series of awesome 25swf guest bloggers- read about them here!)

I was fine.  I had accepted the drought and my participation in keeping that terrain drought-like.  I had come to terms with my chronic single status.  She and I had broke bread over cocktails and parted as friends.  I WAS fine!!!!

Now, I’m not so fine.  One day.  That’s all it took.  Boy, timing is an impeccable bitch!  First, the last guy I dated is in a relationship. She’s younger.  She’s pretty.  Seems smart.  Good for her.  Good for him.  BUT, what the fuck, man!!!  Not even two months ago, he was writing me wanting to be friends, stating, “I haven’t really dated anyone in several months. I’ve kind of decided that maybe that isn’t what I need right now. What I do feel like I need right now is more friends.”  Now, he’s in a relationship.  SLAP in the face!!!

Then a few hours later I find out the biggest heart break of my young life is engaged.  Again.  He was married, then divorced, and now he’s engaged again.  His ex-wife and I share a birthday.  How do I know that?  Well, through our correspondences he said something to the effect of how it didn’t feel right to wish me a happy birthday on his wife’s birthday.  So, upon learning of their divorce, I’ve since concluded that it was not only NOT meant to be for us, but even if it were meant to be it wouldn’t have worked out. Here he is all set to marry wife #2.  Our thing was FOREVER ago.  I’m over it, but it still stings in a, “spit on your palm and then slap me in the face” kind of way.

This is the thing that really gets me and hurts the most…

They didn’t choose me.  Seems that when I’m totally ready to choose someone, they aren’t looking to choose me.  It has been a long, damn time since I’ve voiced this age old question, “What’s wrong with me?”  I know, I’m an avid supporter of my chronically single affliction.  For some, that’s hard to move past.  I don’t know, I think it’s endearing and boils down to self preservation AND to keeping my eye on the big career prize.

I am thinking that there is something seriously wrong with me.  I know I’m broken and that I have a back-pack of carry-on baggage, but I am not broken beyond repair.  For the first time, in a long time – I cried.  Being chronically single isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. It’s hard work to move pass the realization that you’re alone, that you’re single, and be okay with that.  Some days are easier than others.  Today, for me has been, “Spit on my neck, kick me in the crotch fantastic.”  So much for self preservation.  You’re bound to get hurt either way it goes…

^^Whipperwill^^

Guest Blogger – Whipperwill: Male to Female…?

(This post is part of an awesome series of awesome 25swf guest bloggers- read about them here!)

Oh, these are interesting times. It is all, oh so relative! So, first, I’ve been doing some research for a new script I’m writing. During my research I found a youtube diary of sorts, which follows this young person who is in transition. Female to male. I cannot tell a lie. As a man, dude is freaking, super cute!!! I mean, if I didn’t know and had he walked into a bookstore where I was hanging out, I’d be like, “how you doin’?” Seriously, too cute. I was telling a friend of mine about this little revelation. He then asked a very good question, “would that be a deal breaker?” Uh… hmmm… yeah, I’d wager it would be. I cannot tell a lie. I was a bit confused.

Now, today (which is actually yesterday, but by the time this posts who knows how far removed from yesterday we will be – it’s immaterial really, but relative all the same – I digress…) on the FB an old college “Chum” of mine strikes up a chat. Now, I’ve not heard from or seen Chum in like 5 to 6 years. Why haven’t I seen or heard from him you may be wondering? Well, it could have something to do with how he kept coming on to me the last time I saw him. I really just was not interested and told him so. Adult me, straightforward and to the point! We were working on editing a project. It was my first big contract project with Will Rogers Airport. I was all about NOT fucking that up and wasn’t in the mood to dick around. Unfortunately, “NO” didn’t register as a word in Chum’s brain or something, because he couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself. So, our last editing session ended with me leaving prematurely amid a few choice words – I’ll spare you. Chum texted me immediately after I left. Apologized. Said he cared for me deeply. It’s been building… what?!?! I was totally unaware of this and did not appreciate the unwanted hands on my person. So, that was the end of Chum’s existence in my physical world. BUT I guess it seemed okay to be FB buddies especially now that he lives in an entirely different state, right?

Okay, so back on the FB he apologizes once again for his behavior via chat. There has been so much time that has passed. To hold a grudge, that’s not how I roll. So, I’m like it’s cool, man. Thanks for the apology. I appreciate it. Then he apologizes for something for which I was not aware of… our exchange:

Chum: “I wanted to know; you know I am transgender? just want you to know I was never out to deceive anyone, but several Professors told me not to come out”

Me: “you’re male to female…”

Chum: “MTF. yes.”

Me: “you identified to me as male… it doesn’t weird me out or anything… that you’re transgendered…”

Chum: “no, I came on to you… there is a difference. I thought you were hot, sorry I know that was awkward and I can see how I was a guy, doing guy things… but even then I was thinking like a girl”

Okay, so I’ll spare you the rest of the details, because it kind of goes down hill from there. I basically told him that I was happy he could finally feel free to be himself. I really was happy for him. To be able to be free and be who he is – it’s a commodity that some don’t have. I guess I’m just too darn nice, because before I knew it, he was calling me sweetie and talks about kisses to my brow entered the stream. Don’t ask. I begin to get THAT “vibe” from him. So, I bid him adieu – chat over. Now that I’ve had time to process it and read back over the exchange, I really wish he would have been able to explain this, because I totally didn’t get what he meant by, “I was a guy, doing guy things… but even then I was thinking like a girl”. I asked, but he said it was hard to explain. Hmmm…

I cannot tell a lie. I am confused…

Relatively Confounded,

^^Whipperwill^^

Guest Blogger – Whipperwill: Officially off the market… NOT!!!

(This post is part of an awesome series of awesome 25swf guest bloggers- read about them here!)

“Relationships are strange and I am strange in them.”  That is a quote made famous by yours truly.  However, recent events have led me to believe that I don’t necessarily need to be in a relationship in order to behave strangely.  What the hell am I talking about?!?!

Okay, so… recently, I’ve been kind of, well… I have blatantly informed potential talent that I… wait for it…  have a BOYFRIEND. Gasp!  Sacre Bleu!!  I know, right?!?!  What the ass?  It started while I was away on “assignment”.  There was this basketball conference in town and all the players were staying in the hotel where I was working.  I remember enjoying the view as all these TALL, “dranks of wah-tah” from all over, stepped off their bus and into the hotel.  It was a mighty fine view and I was excited. Really excited!

Finally, after a couple of days I shared an elevator with “Player”.  We talked, we walked, we sat down at the bar of the hotel, and talked some more.   He orders a drink.  I order a water.  I wasn’t officially off the clock.  So, we sip, talk, and agree to meet up again the next night.  Same place.  Same time.  YES!  Off to a decent start.  He seems genuinely nice.  Actually, he had held the door open for me several times throughout the course of my work day.  That’s nice, right?  Anyway, we meet up the next day.  The conversation’s flowing.  I’m off the clock.  Hallelujah!  Player is cute, sweet, and seems real stand up.  So, why oh why, did the affirmative word yes, fall from my lips when he asked if I had a boyfriend?  Actually, I didn’t realize what I’d said until I heard him say, “lucky for him, not so lucky for me.”  What?  Oh no!  And like in the movies, Player throws a few bills down on the bar and cooly says, “it’s been real.”  I wanted to take it back!  Alas, it was too late.  What just happened?  It would happen two more times after that.  What am I?  Stuck on stupid?!?  I’m cock blocking myself.*  And really, the “I have a boyfriend” line!?!  I haven’t used that in years.  The adult me is usually more straightforward.  I stopped using that line and giving out fake numbers before I’d left college for the first time.  What’s up with that?  Am I trying to relive the “glory” days?  Am I going through an “almost” to midlife crisis?

For the record:  I do NOT have a boyfriend.  Love is still a desert.  Apparently, I’m supporting the drought.

Thirsty and Barren,

^^Whipperwill^^

*I don’t really ever use that phrase, but it seemed like the appropriate phrase to use.  Cheers 😉

Signs

The number 3

While Signs is, admittedly, one of my favorite alien movies (I don’t care how you feel about M. Night Shyamalan, that’s a freaking great movie)…these are not the kind of signs I’m talking about.

I am talking about the kind of signs that we look for, find, create, and sometimes base our whole lives around.

When I first started dating MF I had all of the signs. Signs like our birthdays being the inverse of each other, with the number 3 sprinkled in there a couple of times. Our middle names, Michael and Michelle, the girl/boy versions of one another. Our cats both being black. We both just got out of 3 and 1/2 year relationships. And the hotel room we stayed in Branson was number 313. Not to mention he lived on a street with lots of 3’s in it. Our last names were even similar. I know this sounds completely insane, but I truly believed it meant something. And by something, I thought it meant that we were meant. And more than the number 3 and other nonsensical commonalities, we had a lot in common personality-wise. I just had to add that in my defense so you don’t think I’m a total loony, just a little bit of one. 😉

As the relationship progressed (and became increasingly more destructive), those signs became something to hold onto.

And then my (unconscious) silly signs quest turned into a search for sanity signs. I began to look for signs that I wasn’t losing my mind. That this love was for real. That this love was it. I held onto the number 3. The black cats. The 3 1/2 yr failed relationships. The middle names. The last names.

But with the passing months, the number three faded and was replaced with neglect, hateful words, and MF telling me I was never happy. And I should just be happy.

There’s a fine line between being in denial and staying positive. I was most definitely in denial. Funny how you can never tell that when you are IN it, because that would just be too helpful.

He was right, though. I was never happy. Up until a point I could keep my positivity and the sweet number 3 in the forefront of my mind, but when you’re treated like shit over and over and you tell him, “Hey, I can’t keep going on like this,” and his response is, “The things I did for her (the ex-fiancee) are the things you want, and I can’t give them to you.” It really is the last thing you want to do…just be happy.

I was in denial that he wanted to be with me. That he loved me. He didn’t love me. And he just wanted someone to be with. Someone to have experiences with. Someone to fill the shoes of the other one, and the one before her. I’m just not the kind of person that can keep my mouth shut, so he made a mistake there. He needs someone who just takes it. But I fought back. I talked back.

My mom has always told me to date someone who is more in love with me than I am with them. My guest blogger, Whipperwill, delved into this idea in her post, “Devotion Came on the Edge of a Nervous Breakdown.” When I first read Whipperwill’s story, I teared up. This be-with-someone-who-loves-you-more idea wasn’t just something my mom concocted in her 60 year life of failed relationships? Other people thought it was the key, too.

Is that true? Is that the secret? I really don’t like that answer. I find it to be disturbing. But it’s the only one I have right now.

Both guys I truly, madly, deeply loved didn’t work out. Parker and MF. One was amazing to me, but too self-destructive to see our future together. MF was the worse relationship of my life and I’m still figuring that one out. Both of them I made sacrifices for, and both of them fucked me over (in very different ways). And the funny thing is, I’m sure they feel the same way about me. I was the one who ended both of those relationships. And I was a pretty awesome girlfriend. I gave it all. Maybe that’s my problem. I give it all.

It’s not in my nature to hold back. I don’t know if I can find the happy medium between holding back and giving it all. How do I find it?

Maybe this is a sign. A sign that the way I was doing it before wasn’t the best way to do it. And with MF, in true Ace of Base spirit, I eventually saw the sign that opened up my eyes.

Yours holding back next time with a few less signs to live by,

25swf